


Fear on Fire

by Goatalicious



Category: Claymore
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Chapter 2 tags, Cunnilingus, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Love Confessions, POV Second Person, Rating will change with Chapter 2, Speech Disorders, Trichtillomania, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-13
Updated: 2017-07-21
Packaged: 2018-11-13 13:41:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11186298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Goatalicious/pseuds/Goatalicious
Summary: Vanish into the night with meWe're raising heatbeats- Fear on Fire by Ruelle





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ValensHawke](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ValensHawke/gifts).



> This fic adresses various headcanons and ideas:  
> \- Clare stutters when emotional or nervous, something thats a result of her speech problems as a child.  
> \- Jean has trichtillomania.  
> \- Jean is a slut for gestures and symbolism.

At some point while sleeping in the large warehouse, Jean had slipped a note into your boot. You excused yourself as soon as you noticed it there, leaving behind a snickering Helen and amused Deneve. Jean certainly wasn’t known for being stealthy, and you’d bet anything that the others had noticed her putting it there.

You quickly set out towards where Jean had been stationed. She hadn’t told you where she was assigned to patrol the town limits in the note. But admittedly, you had tuned in when Miria had given her orders. Perhaps that was a misstep in Jean’s plan, or maybe she had noticed you paying attention.

You noted a miniscule pulse of Yoki as you passed a house along the outskirts of Pieta. You paused by the window, seeing the flicker of warm light was just barely passing through the heavy curtains. You make your way towards the door, rolling your shoulders and swinging it open.

“I wasn’t sure you’d come.” Jean says as you step in the doorway. You quickly close the door behind you. Your heart fluttered in surprise when as spoke, though you expected it.

Jean’s seated form was outlined by the orange light of a single lantern. Her armor and sword set aside on a table in a corner of the room.

Small gestures mean everything as warriors; You personally find that reading them is over complicated, and prefer being straightforward with another warrior. However,  Jean has shown to be very deliberate in her actions and their meanings thus far, so you’ve taken care to remember what each one means depending on the situation.  Jean without armor or sword nearby means that she is being vulnerable and open. The fact that she is seated, putting herself below you, is significant given her rank. But the most important one is that her dickie is not on, it’s clenched in her fist.

It represents that everything said here is out of reach of the Organisation.

It won’t leave her grip unless you remove yours as well. She relaxes fractionally when you raise your hands to remove it. You toss it at her feet unceremoniously and pull an empty crate from beside you so you can sit across from her. Even once you're settled her fist hasn’t relaxed, her pale knuckles even whiter than usual.

You huff and take her hand from her lap. Taking one finger at a time, you unfurl her hand so the dickie drops to the floor beside yours. She sighs shakily and smiles softly at you.

“Thank you for coming, Clare.”

“It’s no trouble. What do you need to tell me?” you ask, noting she hasn’t moved her hand from yours. You move to pull away, but she holds fast.

Her eyes are near brimming and she's working her throat. You feel awkward, caught between wanting to respect her space and comforting her. In the days you spent searching for Raki with her trailing behind, and the weeks of traveling north, the two of you rarely touched. Even with the lack of physical touch, you grew close.

“Shit. Damn,” she sputters, frustratedly. She stands abruptly. “I’m sorry.”

“Why are y-”

“Because I couldn’t do _this_ in a way that would suit you,” the words tumble out of her. She’s running her hands through her hair anxiously, tugging at stray strands while pacing the room.

You’ve caught Jean in private before, plucking absently at her own hair while her aura flickered in distress. For a few days after escaping Riful, she would sometimes jerk awake in a panic, panting and begin yanking away the hair of her arms, legs, brows, anywhere, all while she thought you were still asleep.

You rise and close the distance between the two of you.. Jean halts her pacing as you approach, lowering her arms in shame.

“What’s wrong? What is it you need to tell me,” it's not a question, but softer than a demand.

Jean takes a deep shuddering breath to find the nerve to look you in the eye. “I have feelings for you. Beyond friendship... I love you, Clare. I tried to, well,” she gestures vaguely to the room. “I understand if you don’t feel the same. I can leave if you feel uncomfortable.”

"Is this…” you struggle to find the right words. “Do you still feel you owe me for s-saving your life?” Your heart sinks at that; at the idea that Jean couldn’t actually mean what she's saying. Anger, sadness, hurt all well up within you.

“No, I understand now. You were right, my life is mine. But my heart, my _soul_ is yours. If you don’t want it, you don’t have to take it. I’m just… offering.”

Tears you didn’t know were gathering, fall from both you and Jean. She looks so distraught that you almost feel the need to laugh. Laugh at the notion she hadn’t possibly noticed your longing and pining after her.

An impulse has you gathering her hands in yours. The right hand, in friendship, camaraderie, and trust. The left in imperfection, and impurity. When you kneel, she gasps lightly. A declaration in any language, to any person, human or otherwise, a gesture Jean was sure to understand the meaning of.

“Jean, I swear fealty to you and only you. Please accept my love…” and you use her own words, “ my heart, and my soul.”

Jean laughs, and it's one of the most beautiful things you’ve ever heard. “Yes, of course Clare. I accept.”

You stand too quickly and almost trip backwards, but Jean catches you by the shoulder. There's a moment, so still that you don’t even breath, where her eyes flit to your smiling lips and yours to hers. The moment passes all too quickly, and she lets go of your shoulder.  Jean turns away, face flushing pink.

You take the opportunity to cup her face in your palms, bring yourself up on your tiptoes, and kiss her on the forehead. She draws closer, eyes wide and biting her lip.  

“Can I kiss you?” Jean asks.

“Yes. P-please,” it comes out at barely a whisper.

A jolt runs through you when her lips brush chastely against yours. You realize your eyes are still open and your lips parted and quickly close them both. By the time you are in the correct form to be kissing, she pulls away.

"Again.”

 This time you do manage to kiss her back. Tilting your head to the side and using your hands to guide her closer. You almost feel you can’t let go, at risk of never being able to do this again.

 Jean is the first to pull away and you find that you’re gasping for breath. She chuckles and brings one hand around your waist and the other to the base of your neck. “Breathe through your nose.”  You don’t have time to feel embarrassed because she is kissing you again.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *WARNING* Discussion and mentions of rape and CSA(child sexual abuse).
> 
> Please only read if you think you can handle it.
> 
> Bless SallySS for editing and catching all my mistakes. You're the best!

You feel energy thrumming through your body, gathering where Jean touches you. You make a noise of surprise when she catches your bottom lip between her teeth and runs her tongue along it. You eagerly try and do the same, biting too hard and drawing the slightest bit of blood. But Jean doesn’t pull away, only presses herself more into you. 

Even slowing down only gives way to more desire. You find yourself wanting to feel more of her skin against yours, to taste more than just her mouth. The want hurts in a way that is anything but pain. Your left hand fumbles its way across to Jean’s left hand. An offering. 

Jean pauses. “Are you sure, Clare?” her voice is low and breathless in a way that thrills you. 

“Yes.” 

The both of you separate to undress, Jean goes slower than she could, as you still have some armor and the uniform on.

You’ve bathed together, cleaned each other's wounds; in a way, this isn’t too different. It feels natural, it feels safe to be bare in front of Jean. You’re almost giddy with the feeling.

Jean moves the crates you were sitting on aside, pulls a piece of cloth from the table and lays it out over the dirt packed floor. You go over to sit on the makeshift rug and Jean follows. She shifts so she's straddling your legs, hands resting on your shoulders. 

Noticing her caution, you bring her closer and bring your hands up to her chest. At first all you do is rub your palms against the swells of her breast, testing the pressure. When Jean sighs blissfully, you lean forward to capture a nipple in your mouth. Its an awkward angle to crane your neck, but feeling Jean shudder makes it more than worth it. 

A moan starting deep in Jeans chest rumbles out as you suck. You're more careful than you were before. You graze your teeth along the spit slick skin of one breast before moving to the other. 

You drag a hand down her stomach and through coarse curls,a groan escaping you and Jean when you feel slickness at your fingertips. “What should I do?” you say, pulling away from her breast with a wet pop. 

“Inside. Just two is fine.” Jean says, breath hitched just slightly. You rub around, spreading her slick so you’re fingers are wet enough. The muscles in her thigh twitch every time you brush her clit. 

At first, your strokes are exploratory, hesitant, until you feel the muscles flutter around your fingers in a way that makes your heart jump. Jean moans lowly when you thrust in all the way, your palm rubbing against her clit.

Jean brings a hand up to your chin to tilt your head up. You tear your eyes away from where your fingers are disappearing inside her and look up. Her pupils are blown, eyes dark with desire. 

“You okay?” She asks, somehow keeping her voice level as you stroke within her.

“Y-yes.” Your stutter gives you away, you swallow hard. “Are you?” 

Jean halts her hips, face serious. “What’s wrong?”

It's not something you share, ever. Not really the sort of thing any warrior, let alone human, talks about if it happens. Humans don’t speak of it because it tarnishes their reputation. Warriors don’t speak of it because it happens all too often. 

No child, abandoned or sold or separated or whose family has been slaughtered, breathes a word of it. Of the way new family will make them pay their dues and earn their keep. Of what type of person they are sold to. Of what strangers take advantage of their lack of support or money. Of what sickening things yoma do besides eat innards. Of bandits who seek revenge. Of what the handlers at the Organisation will do to make you afraid, and keep you afraid.

But you’re safe here, with Jean, in this moment. So you tell her. You tell her about the Yoma, about the bandit, about the men in black. She listens quietly and patiently, occasionally helping you when a word won’t make it fully out of your mouth. By the end, you’ve slid out of her, hands shaking too much to really do anything. 

Jean cups your face and you notice that her hands are trembling as well. “I’m glad you told me that.” Her eyes hold anger, sadness, but you’re relieved to not see pity. She sighs shakily and continues, “Would you like to stop?” 

“No, I want to keep going just maybe...differently.” You say, finally swallowing the lump in your throat. 

“I was already thinking to do this to you, but perhaps we can try it together.” You wait for her to continue “ We can use our mouths on each other, rather than our hands, either one at a time or both at once.” Jean is blushing by the end of the description, but it definitely helps to know what will happen. 

“How would we do it both at once?” You ask. 

“Would you like me to show you?” 

You nod. 

“Alright, first I will lay down” She does so and gestures for you to come closer “, and you will get on top of me, but with your cunt near my face and vice versa.” 

You do as she says, a bit embarrassed by how open you feel until Jean also spreads her legs. One hand bracing itself on her thigh and the other holding her lips apart, you give the top of her slit a tentative lick that makes Jean gasp. The taste and smell gives you pause, salty and a bit earthy. You want to taste it again, so you do. 

Jean takes it as a sign to start on her end. She starts with wet, open mouthed kisses that make your hips chase the sensation. You do your best to mimic what she's doing, but it gets increasingly harder the more the she works at it. 

Jean groans as she sucks your clit into her mouth and you cry out at the sensation. Her hands dig into the flesh of your hips, holding you in place. Realizing you’ve stopped, you try and get back to work, letting your cries and whimpers and groans into the flesh beneath your mouth. 

Despite your best efforts, you reach the edge first when Jean starts flicking the stiff point of your clit, your thighs shaking with every movement of her tongue. You can’t find it in you to feel shy about the noises you make, not even when you stutter out Jean’s name a dozen times as you come down from the high. 

Clambering off of Jean and then back on, facing her face this time, you both go in for a hungry kiss. Jean chuckles lightly at how your faces are both so slick that you bump noses at first. Apparently you both taste similar, you think as your tongue ventures into Jean's mouth. 

“Your turn.” you say breathlessly and start sliding down Jean’s body. You put her legs over your shoulders and start with long languid licks, working your way upwards to her clit. 

Your thankful that you can see Jean’s face as you do this. You’re guided by her expression, her voice, the way she throws her head back, the way her muscles tighten. You feel you could go on forever, looking up at such a sight. 

Jean curses loudly then whispers “I’m gonna come,” like it's a prayer. ‘Please’ is all you can think.

When Jean relaxes fully is when you finally stop. You crawl your way back up, wiping off your face on your arm with some laughter from the both of you. Jean offers her upper arm as a pillow and you take it, turning your face in towards her chest. 

You feel as though there are thousands of bees buzzing around your head and heart, softening the edges of your thoughts and doubts. “I love you.” you mutter before your nerves hold you back. 

Jean puts her other hand on the top of your head, ruffling your hair and kissing your sweaty forehead. “I love you too.”


End file.
